


Renaissance Orgies

by asti_martini



Category: 16th Century CE RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Humor, M/M, Missing Scene, Steve is little shit, Time Travel, and has some epic taste in men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 21:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asti_martini/pseuds/asti_martini
Summary: A long time ago, back in 2013, Steve mentioned that he'd love to bang Raphael Sanzio. Most likely, he was only joking.In 2023 Tony invents Time Machine.HO-HO-HO





	Renaissance Orgies

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Оргии в эпоху Ренессанса](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19039681) by [asti_martini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asti_martini/pseuds/asti_martini). 



> Yes, the author has been drinking A LOT lately.  
> NB: English is not my first language, so if anyone wants to fix articles or the parts where the style looks awkward, be my guest. I am not a person who doesn't know the difference between "your" and "you're" though, so don't be too scared to read, m'kay? :)

New York, 2023

Tony absolutely detested any forms of psychological manipulations, even though he understood it was just how some people went on with their everyday lives. It was one of the reasons why he never liked stuff to be handed to him. Well, at least if he did not know people in question really well. Tactile hyper-responsiveness was a mean bitch. So… even though Tony was aware of his weakness, it was the very form of pressure he was tempted to call his own type of kryptonite. You can't fight the kryptonite, you can only evade it.

He subconsciously thought that anyone bringing him food and booze just had to be a nice person. Obie used to bring Tony pizza all the time when he was still alive – well, look how it turned out in the end?

Steve… Steve was a semi-friendly person. Somewhat trustworthy. And a dick nonetheless. Also, that asshole knew perfectly well all the ways to make Tony cooperate like an adorable trusting little puppy. 

Hence, upon seeing Steve at the workshop’s door holding a coffee and a Thai take-away, Tony knew right there that some big, big request would follow. 

The mystery was… what the heck could that be? Tony, Bruce and Rocket were already working on the “Time Machine” project, and that was exactly the thing Steve, Nat and Scott demanded, so really, WHAT ELSE could Steve want from him?

“What’s that?”

“Green curry and iced triple espresso.”

“How black?”

“Cthulhu’s soul black.”

Steve smiled nicely, put coffee and curry before Tony, walked around the desk and chair and patted the back of Tony’s head.

THE NERVE OF THAT BITCH!

Tony took a deep breath and locked his fingers just to keep his own hands away from the offering.

“What do you want?” Tony asked crustily.

Judging by the magnificent smell, the coffee was of expensive Ethiopian kind, which was tantalizing and just not fair. Steve continued with his perfect little manipulations, caressing Tony’s shoulders tenderly, just like a caring mommy. Asshole.

“So we have enough Pym Particles for two test drives, right?”

What, that’s it? Tony drew out a relieved breath and reached for the coffee cup.

“Yeah, why, you wanna be a lab rat? No pro…”

Tony stopped himself before finishing the sentence for he saw something very, very suspicious. Steve’s face lit up with thrilled, delightful anticipation of a typical adrenaline addict. And Tony suddenly remembered a little conversation with him from, like, ten years ago, when Steve jokingly told him that if he was ever to bed a guy, it would be Raphael.

Steve’s dreamy face from 2014 when they were in Renaissance part of exhibition in Louvres lit up in Tony’s memory like a burning gas station lights up the night.

“HELL NO.”

***

“Bruce, Bruce, Brucie-bear, don’t even let Steve go near the quantum tunnel, seriously, don’t you dare, I will try to distract him when you get on with the tests,” Tony said rapidly with a wild crazy sparkle in his eyes.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Bruce asked nicely.

“That little shit wants a trip to Florence,” Tony answered shortly while tapping his fingers on the desk nervously.

“Okay, dude wants to chill a little before saving the Universe, why not?” Rocket shrugged never stopping the work on the settings.

“Oh, darlings, you are underestimating our good Cap’s evil genius. He wants to go to the 16th century and bang the Floy Ninja Turtles!”

Quite some awkward silence followed. Rocket’s furry face expressed pure “WTF”; apparently, he was imagining Steve banging LITERAL turtles. Bruce took off his glasses and searched Tony’s eyes for any signs of the said craziness being a joke. But no, Tony was as serious as a blood tumor.

“Since WHEN did Cap start banging Amphibians?” Rocket inquired wrinkling his furry nose.

“Calm down, they are not that kind of turtles,” Bruce waved his big green hand at him. “Tony, are you sure?”

“I’ve been hearing Duolingo ringtones from his phone all week,” Tony spoke Formula 1 fast, like all the times he was seriously worried about something. “I hacked his cloud; this dick is on rocket fast learning Italian. He had it all PLANNED, and today he came to me with Thai to make me put him on test drive.”

Judging by his furious eyes, an attempt at cheap bribery maddened Tony the most.

“No, Tony, stop and calm down. Are you sure you are not just paranoid about all this? Did he say it in your face? That he wants a trip to the 16th century and not just a pre-Thanos Italian vacation and some sightseeing?”

“He told me the only guy he would ever fuck in his life would be Raphael back in 2013! YES, THE Raphael, the artist, Raphael Sanzio! He’s gonna be burnt for sorcery in the best case! And in the worst case we will have to look for the cure for plague! WE CAN’T RISK LIKE THAT BRUCIE, WE CAN’T!”

***

New Jersey, 1970

Steve took four pods with Pym Particles instead of two and smirked like a Grinch he was.

***

Florence, 1505

Raphael was chilling and boozing with his pals when the door to the tippling-house opened and a miraculous incredible creature appeared before his eyes. A tall, broad-shouldered angel with golden locks, eyes, blue as mountain lakes, and charming, breathtaking, snow-white smile. One word: perfect. 

As it turned out, The Perfection came to the house looking for Raphael. The golden-haired angel spoke a mix of Latin and bad Italian, but Raphael was all for forgiving him absolutely anything. One warm look and smile from this magnificent creature equaled a bag of gold for a pardoner. 

“Ah, signor,” The Perfection’s lips touched Raphael’s fingers passionately. “I am your talent’s greatest admirer.”

Alright-ey, it was time to take this miracle of a man to some place that would be nice and quiet. Raphael did NOT want his night to be spoilt by the arrest for buggery. 

***

“Young Raphael is running late. He promised to come by before noon today if I’m not mistaken.”

Michelangelo worked on a painting (as usual). Leonardo, who appeared on a vacant sofa at Michelangelo’s place the previous month in a most mysterious way (a mystery that occurred every time Leonardo didn’t feel up to proper profitable work), was playing his self-made harp lazily and flushing out zillion crazy ideas per minute. Michelangelo was pretty sure that if the Pope or some scarlet hats heard at least a third of those, Leonardo would magically transform from a genius inventor into a human steak on the spot.

“Oh, I have no idea, mayhaps he met someone,” Michelangelo answered absently.

As if answering to his assumption, there was a specific Raphael-ish knock on the door.

“Signors.” Raphael looked uncharacteristically happy, delighted even, as if he had received a divine grace. “Yesterday I met a… David. Apollo. Adonis. The embodiment of perfection. I want you to meet him.”

Raphael missed his “brush brothers” exchanging sceptic looks. He waved at somebody from the stairs and called:

“Stefano, my angel, over here!”

The door opened wider and Raphael’s new beau came in.

Michelangelo breathed out something like “holy mother of God” and dropped his brush.

Leonardo played a short angelic melody on his harp, then looked at Michelangelo decisively and said:

“Signor, we MUST seal his image in eternity.”

“I did tell you: Perfection!” Raphael said passionately, not tearing the eyes from his Adonis, who was already blushing from all the looks. 

“Oh yes, young friend of mine, you are absolutely right.” Leonardo reached for his drawing stuff and nodded at… what did young Raphael say was the perfection’s name? Ah, yeah, Stefano. “Do lose your clothes.”

***

New York, 2023

“What’s tha… HOLY SHIT. Steve, please, tell me you had a quickie with aunt Peg in a closet, PLEASE.”

“Excuse me?”

“You got hickeys all over your neck, confess, you asshole!”

“The source of the hickeys is none of your damn business.”

“No-no-no-no-no, now I am intrigued too. How many Pym Particle pods did you snatch exactly?”

“E-e-e-eh…”

“You are so lucky that the serum doesn’t let you catch syphilis.”

“And how’s it going with the plague in Florence by the way? CONFESS, ROGERS, OR I’LL STAB YOU!”

“I am more concerned with him explaining the armor to the Renaissance Italians.”

“…I told them the A on my chest stood for ‘archangel’.”

“THEY COULD HAVE BURNT YOU, STEVE.”

“I’d have liked to see them try.”

“Okay, how long were you there?”

“Something like… three weeks, I think?”

“Fuck me, just WHAT did you do there?”

“Language! Was modeling, learnt some drawing from the true masters, what’s so bad about that?”

“Start telling us about the hickeys already, you freaking Casanova.”

“You know what? Go burn in hell, Tony…”


End file.
